Seraphine's POV
The upper corridor carried its usual order: short, practical sentences from open doors, the king’s right hand’s men leaning over maps, and at the top of the servants’ stair two clay jugs waited for me. My task was to bring them to the meeting room before the noon briefing.
Margot stood below the stairs and gave her usual calm but firm instruction.
“One jug in each hand. Don’t rush, don’t stop. And watch the stone at the turn—someone keeps greasing it.”
I had barely eaten in days. A few bites of bread, a few sips of soup. Even the smallest task felt heavy. My fingers slipped often, and only the wolf inside me kept me steady, correcting each step: left foot outward, don’t lock the knee, shine on stone means danger.
At the top of the stairs, just before the turn, I saw th
